[Concept] Nexus P3 by Harry-Joe on DeviantArt

Promoted Deviations

Abbess Glass Shroud s Centipede Confessor

Jaeger of the Deadly Loop- Project: Plague Inquis

Lord-Iluvatar on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/lord-iluvatar/art/Chris-Achilleos-ELRIC-AT-THE-END-OF-TIME-1328494267Lord-Iluvatar

Suggested Deviants

PrRailgun

Literature

To Remember

We carry a lot on our shoulders lugging around the past as we go. There are lingering echos heard far off in the shroud of time that so hurt. Is it easy to romanticize days of gentle peace, yet would not do. Ghosts are not real to you or I, but the past is a truth that is rude. We are human in the end. Forget if you please, but I will remember. All is destined for finality to wilt away on vines once alive.

Literature

To Call on a Feeling

Hope and happiness seem to me like some passing tide, or maybe they are more like a gentle breeze on a summer day. It matters little how I describe this thought or maybe a feeling I should say. One moment joy is my life and the next is of deep sorrow springing forth, as a tyrant to my soul and mind. I could say more, yet why? Those who hear me now can feel all these words, emotions, and thoughts themselves. No, instead, I will let my mind break apart on this cliff. Where my memories and thoughts could float out on the air and truly become more. Eyes of aqua blue and violet too, look on, up into a delicate sky new. Faint wisps of ashen light that arc in gentle curls, hope comes with tears that span years. To fade away now within a daydream of delight is a strange and odd life. To be as my heart demands, to smell pine on the air, to feel the sunlight on my skin. I do love nature, happiness always seems to find me when I can be one with it. This is where my heart and tears

Literature

Lost At Last

If I'm to be lost then stamp out this soul, let the remnant be burned falling away into a cinder and flame. Let the last of my heart, pound a beat to giveaway falling in flight, then crush me with your palm to kill me where I stand. If I was lost, forget me here by the stony grey edge and think of me as nothing, but that dream akin to myth. If the last of your heart hurts with such a pain, to twist into knots of a memory sweet thing. Remember I am to be lost, faded from your time as an echo out in mountainous space. Maybe, at some long-distant point, far out from this last date is where your aching pain may float away. On ever days of light that shine out, down upon your heart you sing of joyous delight, having lost my name.

Bukoslav

Literature

Don't wait for a miracle, you are the one

Don’t wait for a miracle, don’t sit and pray,for stars to align in some magical way.You’ve carried the power, the light, all along,the fire within you, steady and strong. They tell you to wait for fate’s guiding hand,to wander and wish for a promised land.But you are the spark, the match to the flame,the soul of the storm, wild and untamed. Don’t wait for a sign, don’t long for a cure,You are the answer, complete and pure.The heavens may watch, but they know it's true-the miracle waiting is hidden in you. So rise, and breathe life into dreams cast aside,unfold your wings; let your spirit be wide.Don’t wait for a miracle whispered above-You are the one, the force, the love.

Literature

I mean, I am

In the caverns of the mind's abyss, Where memories stir with a ghostly kiss, "I mean, I am," a mantra cried, In the silence where fears reside. Through the corridors of inner strife, Where battles rage to claim my life, "I mean, I am," a plea so raw, Yearning to break free from the claw. In the labyrinth of doubt and pain, Where doubts devour, leaving stains, "I mean, I am," a truth untold, In the heart's deepest, darkest fold. Through the chambers of desire's flame, Where passions burn with a fierce acclaim, "I mean, I am," a flame that yearns, For freedom from the soul's churns. In the recesses of the soul's retreat, Where shadows mingle with defeat, "I mean, I am," a whispered cry, Seeking solace 'neath the starry sky. In the crucible of self and fate, Where destinies weave and intertwine, "I mean, I am," a vow to be, Embracing all that makes me free. So let the echoes of "I mean, I am," Resound within, like a sacred psalm, For in that truth, I find my

Literature

God is always on your side

In moments when you feel alone, Lost in the vastness, on your own, When darkness whispers, tries to divide, Remember, God's love will be your guide. In the depths of night where shadows reside, In the blaze of day where hopes collide, God's gentle touch, a constant guide, Whispers softly, "I'm by your side." When the world spins fast, and fears arise, In the hush of prayers, in the tearful sighs, God's embrace, where solace lies, Speaks in whispers, "I hear your cries." Through every trial, through every stride, In the darkest hour, in the swelling tide, God's presence lingers, a faithful guide, Whispers gently, "In me, confide." In the laughter shared, in the love wide, In the moments cherished, where dreams abide, God's love enfolds, a steady tide, Echoes softly, "Forever, I reside." In every triumph, in every fall, In every answer, in every call, God's whisper echoes, through it all, "You are loved, you stand tall." In the depths of night when shadows loom, And silence

RevankistProductions

Literature

Anxiety

It’s an eternal eye of the storm, with winds made out of doubt, An immortal hurricane, stalking, with absolutely no way out. The gales rip and tear, jaws of fear rending you from what you know. Endless voices born from the darkness of your soul start to grow ‘Til all that’s left is the cacophony of a thousand whispers, Killing you faster than the roar of a whirling twister. The mind is not left space or time to settle or center, Instead it’s the Devil’s echoes that enter. It can make you forget all the love you have known, And all of the joys you have ever grown, And replace it with the story of how you’re the villain And that the chance of winning is but one in a million. Life is no longer a journey or even the destination, It’s just a tick-ticking clock with no cessation, A magnifying glass with only fixation. That is what it is to live with anxiety. Not by following the what is, but by following the what ifs.

Literature

This Is You Trying

You are the hope in someone’s heart, You are a comforting thought in painful times, And you are a light standing against the darkness. I know that your life feels harsh and cruel, But know that what is worse still is the rest of the world Any time that you pull yourself away from it. I can’t claim to know your feelings or your thoughts Or the voices and the madness that claw away at your soul, But what I do know is that you are needed. The world needs who you were meant to be. The world needs your love. Your work remains unfinished. Will you let your toil be for nothing? And those who will come after you, Will you not lend them your shoulders To stand on to reach new heights? Or to cry on to depose their inner demons? I ask not of you to do or not to do, I ask only you try. Try. Every waking second you decide to remain in this world, That is you trying. Every labored step you take toward the next day, That is you trying In this world that is trying you. You know the anatomy of your

Literature

Instead of Answers, Look for Questions

Life is neither fair nor unfair. It’s not the kind of thing “fairness” applies to. That would imply something, someone, anything were in charge, That there’s some kind of system or order to it all. No. Life simply is. Sometimes the good die young. Sometimes evil prevails. And sometimes, maybe most times, things happen without a reason. They simply are. We create meaning from suffering to give voice to our pain. There isn’t a thing of more terror than voiceless agony. So we believe in things like fate or destiny or God or karma To comfort ourselves like blankets and baubles to children. In the end, the anguish of a billion souls screams like Whispers in the infinite silence of the void. In the end, the torment of a billion lives shrieks like Shallow breaths in God’s ears. No one is listening. No one is out there. It’s just us. Whether you waste away in apathy, Or you shine on with all time’s glory, You cease just the same. All that you are, All that you’ve done, One day, Shall be no

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Promoted Deviations

AnoserLuaniCorpse on DeviantArt

Lord-Iluvatar on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/lord-iluvatar/art/Chris-Achilleos-ELRIC-AT-THE-END-OF-TIME-1328494267Lord-Iluvatar

Suggested Deviants

PrRailgun

Literature

To Remember

We carry a lot on our shoulders lugging around the past as we go. There are lingering echos heard far off in the shroud of time that so hurt. Is it easy to romanticize days of gentle peace, yet would not do. Ghosts are not real to you or I, but the past is a truth that is rude. We are human in the end. Forget if you please, but I will remember. All is destined for finality to wilt away on vines once alive.

Literature

To Call on a Feeling

Hope and happiness seem to me like some passing tide, or maybe they are more like a gentle breeze on a summer day. It matters little how I describe this thought or maybe a feeling I should say. One moment joy is my life and the next is of deep sorrow springing forth, as a tyrant to my soul and mind. I could say more, yet why? Those who hear me now can feel all these words, emotions, and thoughts themselves. No, instead, I will let my mind break apart on this cliff. Where my memories and thoughts could float out on the air and truly become more. Eyes of aqua blue and violet too, look on, up into a delicate sky new. Faint wisps of ashen light that arc in gentle curls, hope comes with tears that span years. To fade away now within a daydream of delight is a strange and odd life. To be as my heart demands, to smell pine on the air, to feel the sunlight on my skin. I do love nature, happiness always seems to find me when I can be one with it. This is where my heart and tears

Literature

Lost At Last

If I'm to be lost then stamp out this soul, let the remnant be burned falling away into a cinder and flame. Let the last of my heart, pound a beat to giveaway falling in flight, then crush me with your palm to kill me where I stand. If I was lost, forget me here by the stony grey edge and think of me as nothing, but that dream akin to myth. If the last of your heart hurts with such a pain, to twist into knots of a memory sweet thing. Remember I am to be lost, faded from your time as an echo out in mountainous space. Maybe, at some long-distant point, far out from this last date is where your aching pain may float away. On ever days of light that shine out, down upon your heart you sing of joyous delight, having lost my name.

Bukoslav

Literature

Don't wait for a miracle, you are the one

Don’t wait for a miracle, don’t sit and pray,for stars to align in some magical way.You’ve carried the power, the light, all along,the fire within you, steady and strong. They tell you to wait for fate’s guiding hand,to wander and wish for a promised land.But you are the spark, the match to the flame,the soul of the storm, wild and untamed. Don’t wait for a sign, don’t long for a cure,You are the answer, complete and pure.The heavens may watch, but they know it's true-the miracle waiting is hidden in you. So rise, and breathe life into dreams cast aside,unfold your wings; let your spirit be wide.Don’t wait for a miracle whispered above-You are the one, the force, the love.

Literature

I mean, I am

In the caverns of the mind's abyss, Where memories stir with a ghostly kiss, "I mean, I am," a mantra cried, In the silence where fears reside. Through the corridors of inner strife, Where battles rage to claim my life, "I mean, I am," a plea so raw, Yearning to break free from the claw. In the labyrinth of doubt and pain, Where doubts devour, leaving stains, "I mean, I am," a truth untold, In the heart's deepest, darkest fold. Through the chambers of desire's flame, Where passions burn with a fierce acclaim, "I mean, I am," a flame that yearns, For freedom from the soul's churns. In the recesses of the soul's retreat, Where shadows mingle with defeat, "I mean, I am," a whispered cry, Seeking solace 'neath the starry sky. In the crucible of self and fate, Where destinies weave and intertwine, "I mean, I am," a vow to be, Embracing all that makes me free. So let the echoes of "I mean, I am," Resound within, like a sacred psalm, For in that truth, I find my

Literature

God is always on your side

In moments when you feel alone, Lost in the vastness, on your own, When darkness whispers, tries to divide, Remember, God's love will be your guide. In the depths of night where shadows reside, In the blaze of day where hopes collide, God's gentle touch, a constant guide, Whispers softly, "I'm by your side." When the world spins fast, and fears arise, In the hush of prayers, in the tearful sighs, God's embrace, where solace lies, Speaks in whispers, "I hear your cries." Through every trial, through every stride, In the darkest hour, in the swelling tide, God's presence lingers, a faithful guide, Whispers gently, "In me, confide." In the laughter shared, in the love wide, In the moments cherished, where dreams abide, God's love enfolds, a steady tide, Echoes softly, "Forever, I reside." In every triumph, in every fall, In every answer, in every call, God's whisper echoes, through it all, "You are loved, you stand tall." In the depths of night when shadows loom, And silence

RevankistProductions

Literature

Anxiety

It’s an eternal eye of the storm, with winds made out of doubt, An immortal hurricane, stalking, with absolutely no way out. The gales rip and tear, jaws of fear rending you from what you know. Endless voices born from the darkness of your soul start to grow ‘Til all that’s left is the cacophony of a thousand whispers, Killing you faster than the roar of a whirling twister. The mind is not left space or time to settle or center, Instead it’s the Devil’s echoes that enter. It can make you forget all the love you have known, And all of the joys you have ever grown, And replace it with the story of how you’re the villain And that the chance of winning is but one in a million. Life is no longer a journey or even the destination, It’s just a tick-ticking clock with no cessation, A magnifying glass with only fixation. That is what it is to live with anxiety. Not by following the what is, but by following the what ifs.

Literature

This Is You Trying

You are the hope in someone’s heart, You are a comforting thought in painful times, And you are a light standing against the darkness. I know that your life feels harsh and cruel, But know that what is worse still is the rest of the world Any time that you pull yourself away from it. I can’t claim to know your feelings or your thoughts Or the voices and the madness that claw away at your soul, But what I do know is that you are needed. The world needs who you were meant to be. The world needs your love. Your work remains unfinished. Will you let your toil be for nothing? And those who will come after you, Will you not lend them your shoulders To stand on to reach new heights? Or to cry on to depose their inner demons? I ask not of you to do or not to do, I ask only you try. Try. Every waking second you decide to remain in this world, That is you trying. Every labored step you take toward the next day, That is you trying In this world that is trying you. You know the anatomy of your

Literature

Instead of Answers, Look for Questions

Life is neither fair nor unfair. It’s not the kind of thing “fairness” applies to. That would imply something, someone, anything were in charge, That there’s some kind of system or order to it all. No. Life simply is. Sometimes the good die young. Sometimes evil prevails. And sometimes, maybe most times, things happen without a reason. They simply are. We create meaning from suffering to give voice to our pain. There isn’t a thing of more terror than voiceless agony. So we believe in things like fate or destiny or God or karma To comfort ourselves like blankets and baubles to children. In the end, the anguish of a billion souls screams like Whispers in the infinite silence of the void. In the end, the torment of a billion lives shrieks like Shallow breaths in God’s ears. No one is listening. No one is out there. It’s just us. Whether you waste away in apathy, Or you shine on with all time’s glory, You cease just the same. All that you are, All that you’ve done, One day, Shall be no

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Site Header

Deviation Actions

To Remember

To Call on a Feeling

Lost At Last

Don't wait for a miracle, you are the one

I mean, I am

God is always on your side

Anxiety

This Is You Trying

Instead of Answers, Look for Questions

To Remember

To Call on a Feeling

Lost At Last

Don't wait for a miracle, you are the one

I mean, I am

God is always on your side

Anxiety

This Is You Trying

Instead of Answers, Look for Questions

[Concept] Nexus P3

Description

To Remember

To Call on a Feeling

Lost At Last

Don't wait for a miracle, you are the one

I mean, I am

God is always on your side

Anxiety

This Is You Trying

Instead of Answers, Look for Questions